


jude law and a semester abroad

by selvish



Series: your favorite weapon (2001) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A lil nasty, Alternate Universe - 2000s, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blowjobs, Breaking Up & Making Up, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Underage Drinking, jealous dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selvish/pseuds/selvish
Summary: The thing with telling your boyfriend “we’re just taking a break” is that most of the time, it’s a half-truth. For one person, of course, it is a break. They get to go to an Ivy League college in a rustic, snowy dreamland. For the other person, however, it’s a 9 month downward spiral into high-functioning alcoholism; ringing in the oncoming summer kissing tequila on an overpass by himself. He doesn’t even like tequila. Jesus Christ, Dream was pathetic sometimes.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: your favorite weapon (2001) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143059
Comments: 18
Kudos: 310





	jude law and a semester abroad

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song 'jude law and a semester abroad' by brand new, off of their album 'your favorite weapon' (the name of the series) ((this song is especially fitting for them so u should rly listen))
> 
> i do not condone the actions of jesse lacey, he can choke
> 
> please ship privately, and mind the tags. enjoy 🖤

The thing with telling your boyfriend “we’re just taking a break” is that most of the time, it’s a half-truth. For one person, of course, it is a break. They get to go to an Ivy League college in a rustic, snowy dreamland. For the other person, however, it’s a 9 month downward spiral into high-functioning alcoholism; ringing in the oncoming summer kissing tequila on an overpass by himself. He doesn’t even like tequila. Jesus Christ, Dream was pathetic sometimes.

George is all he can think about as he leans his head against the cold metal behind him. The older’s 18th birthday held so much promise for them, and the year that followed was a pipedream. He coasted through Junior year on top of the world: making art and making friends and, most importantly, making out with George anywhere they could hide. Then August hit, and George went off to college so he could fend through Senior year by himself.

Most importantly was what George told him on his birthday: that he couldn’t do long distance. It was barely two weeks before he was to hop on a flight and leave Florida behind, finding a new life for himself in fucking  _ Connecticut _ . They were tucked away in one of the baseball field’s dugouts, behind the school.

“What do you mean you  _ can’t _ ? You promised me forever last November, now you can’t even last until winter break?”

“Dream, you know we can’t do this. What do you expect me to do? Spend my time at school miserably thinking about being with you for a week at a time every few months? That’s not fair. We can always come back to this when it makes more sense.”

“I don’t know what the hell goes on in your head sometimes, but I for damn sure can’t just  _ pause _ my feelings until it’s  _ convenient _ for you to love me again.”

George’s entire body is tense, and Dream watches the shorter man take a deep breath. He knows he’s being cruel, but how can he not when everything is falling apart?

“I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry for wanting to enjoy the years of youth that I have left. I’m sorry I can’t stay in this town and hold your hand in the school bathroom for another year until you graduate-”

“Oh, yeah, because it’s  _ my _ idea to sneak around the school all the time. You know what? This makes sense to me. You’re so good at playing the part of my  _ platonic and heterosexual best bro _ , we can both just climb back into the closet and hide until we’re 40. Then when gay rights magically descend from the first female president’s rainbow shitstream, we can get married and retire in Boston or whatever the hell you expect.”

He’s talking so fast and sharply that he’s quickly out of breath. While he’s panting to regain his composure, he makes the mistake of processing how George looks in front of him. His normally closed off expression is torn wide open, eyes wet and mouth hanging in shock. Dream wants to take it all back and hold him, but when he steps forward, George steps back.

“Don’t touch me.”

“George, I’m sorry-”

“ _ No. _ You don’t get to come back from that.” George is whispering, and he hiccups grossly on a sob that’s building in his throat. “I would’ve done it, Dream; married you. If you had, for once in your  _ impatient fucking life _ , waited for me, I would’ve married you the second I could.”

They didn’t speak again after that. George had grabbed his skateboard and climbed out of the disgusting hole in the ground they were in. He walked, defeated, across the field, and went home. Dream stood in the dark, all of his insides puked up on the ground. It was revolting.

Idly, Dream muses that all of his putrid guts are still there. His brain, too, just waiting for George to come back. Maybe that’s the alcohol talking, though, it’s hard to think when he drinks enough. Isn’t that the point?

A horn blaring from below startles him from his spiralling thoughts, and he notices that he’s crying. It’s odd, he usually doesn’t do that anymore. He takes a shaky breath and shakes a chill out of his shoulders before standing. The walk home is cold.

The following mornings he wakes up with a headache, as usual. He goes to school and completes his assignments with practiced ease. While he’s letting his physical body fail him, he hasn’t stopped studying. He’s careful to keep his grades up, making sure he can still get into a good school and not worry about his parents noticing him going off the deep end.

Sapnap and Karl don’t talk to him as much as they used to, which is understandable. They tried to help at first, talk some sense into him that George leaving wasn’t the end of the world, but his inability to accept defeat led them to some pretty nasty arguments. His big mouth seems to ruin a lot for him.

He’s happy for them. Sapnap’s cutting out the substances while Dream falls into their open arms. Maybe they’re twin flames: one always chasing and the other always slipping. It sounds much more poetic than him just being a shitty friend. Karl gives him a wave as he walks by, and he nods at him as he continues through the halls to the parking lot so he can get home and lie down.

There was some family event going on that weekend, but he feigned sick so his parents would leave him with the house to himself. He walks in the door and shucks off his jacket, then just stands in the empty house, swaying a little. It’s unclear how long he stands there, just looking at the living room with a vacant stare. A knock on the door drags him out of it.

Dream opens the door, and George is standing on the porch. The shorter man doesn’t say anything, just shoves him into the house. He’s as faint as a ghost these days, so his body moves easily. George shuts the door behind him thankfully, because Dream isn’t sure he could think to do that right now.

Obviously George has been home since last summer, but he kept a wide berth from Dream’s circles (like Dream had any circles left). As far as he knows, George was here for winter break and spring break. According to the current information available, he’s now home for the summer. Three months of him in Florida until he goes back.

“Are you okay?”

Out of everything Dream expected George to say to him after 9 months of complete radio silence, not even a glance of him, this was not one of his ideas. The fact that he’s willingly here in his house at all is very confusing. He decides to go with the truth. Taking a deep breath, he answers quietly:

“No.”

It all hits him again, every slice of heartache he’s felt since last August. Every time George didn’t call or write or come by. Every fantasy of the older man surrounded by strangers who got to look and touch as much as they wanted. The barren loneliness that consumed him as he ruined every relationship he had left because he couldn’t have the one person who looked at his picture perfect persona up on the top of the world, pulled him down, and said  _ I’m not fooled by any of it. _

George was, is, a breath of fresh air in an 18 year long wildfire. Like he knows that, he takes Dream into his arms and holds him while he cries. They sink to the floor and land in a puddle of broken boys. George kisses him like he wants him still, like he can find a way to take the discombobulated mess and put them back together again.

“It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay, love.”

Dream shakes his head, feeling like a child. George places a kiss on the side of his head and he leans back to look at him. He’s so beautiful, his perfect skin and soft hair is once again close enough to touch, and he takes one of his hands from where they’re clenched in the other’s chest to cup his face. George leans into the touch, and presses a kiss against his palm.

“How can you say that? How can you take me back when I was- I’ve been so shitty. You don’t even know, George, I’m not the type of person you need in your life.”

A sad smile is resting on George’s face, and he looks  _ tired.  _ The bone deep kind that Dream feels in his chest every morning when he wakes up.

“Because I’m not the best person either, Dream, and unfortunately for us: I need you just as much as you need me.” Dream tries to interrupt him, to get back into the insecure and damaged spiral he fits into so well these days, but George continues. “We hurt each other. It was 50/50. Then I went away and we both got worse. Karl told me when I got home last night what you’ve been doing, drinking yourself stupid everyday and cutting everyone off. Meanwhile I had been shagging half my campus in a nauseating attempt to self sabotage  _ and _ get you out of my head. But it doesn’t matter what we do, we’re always gonna come back. You and me, Dream, we’re a once in a lifetime thing. I can’t give it up and neither can you.”

“I got into Trinity.” Dream says dumbly, brain trying desperately not to turn into mush after everything George has said.

“You hate the cold.”

“You’ll keep me warm.”

George rolls his eyes, and if it was last year he would shove him. Instead, he pulls Dream closer and kisses his cheek, holding his face there until the blonde laughs. It’s watery and gross, but neither of them care.

“Do you want to talk about it?” George whispers, and strokes Dream’s stubbly cheek thoughtfully.

“We can. We will, but not right now. I just want to be with you.”

“That sounds nice.”

So they lie on the floor in Dream’s parents foyer making out lazily. Dream’s hands reacquaint themselves with George’s waist, and soon he’s hovering over him as they breathe the same air. There’s one little snag that’s stuck in his head, though, that he needs to know more about.

“You fucked half the campus?”

It comes out pretty accusatory, which is fair, but he reminds himself that they were very much not dating while George was away. However nothing can help that something itches in his hands to take back what was his. What  _ is _ his.

“Yeah, that, uh-” George tries to explain, but one of Dream’s hands is moving from his waist to his crotch. It’s very distracting, but Dream looks at him like he still expects an answer. “I had a bit of a phase over the winter; finding every tall blonde guy from school to hook up with as a coping mechanism for heartbreak. You know how it is.” 

Dream cranes his neck down so his mouth is just next to George’s ear, and presses the palm of his hand down onto the front of his pants. “Did they fuck you as good as I do?”

The reaction to that is heavenly, George’s eyes roll back in his head and he thrusts his hips up against the younger boy’s hand. 

“God. No. No one does. You fuck me so good, Dream.”

“That’s my baby. Let's go upstairs, yeah?”

George's pupils are heavily dilated, and he nods so quickly Dream wonders if he even heard the question.

They get up from the floor and Dream drags George behind him as they go up the stairs. George is grabbing at his pant loops as they tumble to his bedroom door, like he can get his pants off while they're both still upright. Once they reach his room, Dream slams George against the back of the door and runs his hands starting at his shoulders all the way down to his thighs. He presses against the other and picks up his legs so he can wrap them around his waist.

"Should I fuck you right here? Or do you want me to get you in my bed and spoil you?"

Dream's hips are rubbing against George’s in an even rhythm, and the brunette is letting out little mewls with every thrust. It's like music, and Dream wishes he could record it.

"On the bed, please. Fuck."

"Do you deserve it?" Dream whispers into his ear with another harsh thrust. George whines and bangs his head against the door in frustration. "You've been so bad… Letting people at school fuck you. What was it that you said? Every tall blonde guy you met? What a desperate whore for me you are, getting on your knees for them. Did you say my name when you came with their cock inside you?"

"Dream..." George whimpers hopelessly, feeling too warm and fucked out considering how much clothes he still has on.

Getting frustrated himself, Dream carries George over to his bed and gently lays him back against the pillows. He gets both of their shoes off before ripping their pants to the floor next. George is watching him through half lidded eyes, his chest heaving.

"I missed you."

It comes out far more sincere than intended, and for a moment George’s eyes focus back in a little and he smiles.

"I missed you too."

Dream smiles back sunnily and runs his hands over the other's legs, feeling his thighs twitch when he gets to the top. He leaves his hands there, fingers stretched to cover most of the skin there. Moving up the bed, he crawls in between George’s legs and leans his head down to kiss and suck at his inner thighs. He leaves marks with his mouth, deep and painful ones that make George tear up above him with another loud " _ Fuck. _ "

Beneath the final layer of clothing covering George's crotch his cock is hard and leaking into the fabric. There's quite the wet spot forming, and Dream blows cool air over it to see the smaller man shiver and choke.

"How are you feeling, pretty baby?" He asks gently, moving up to push George’s shirt up and kiss more marks into his stomach.

"Good.  _ So _ good. Please, Dream I need more."

"You want more? Why didn't you just say so?" It sounds incredibly mocking and nonchalant, and he knows that if he looked up again he would find George glaring. In retaliation George grabs his hair and yanks it much harder than necessary. For a second Dream's entire body short circuits, and his mouth drops open with a high pitched whimper. The problem with George knowing him so well is that he always has a trick he can pull.

“Suck my dick.” George says bluntly, still holding Dream by his hair. Despite Dream topping and all of the dirty talk he rambles, everything he does is for George’s gain, and George knows he’s the real one in control. Dream swallows and tries to nod, but he winces when his head is still held in place. After a couple seconds of his skin crawling with George’s pointed stare, he’s released.

He gets the older man’s underwear off quickly, tossing it behind him onto the growing pile of clothes. George hisses as the air conditioned air hits his cock, and Dream waits until his eyes are open again to lick at the tip once. The brunette shivers, and Dream starts pressing slow open mouthed kisses sloppily over his cock, placing them somewhat randomly and moving down.

George curls his hands into fists in the sheets, but Dream seems unbothered. He goes even lower, and wraps his lips around each ball to suck at them softly. George almost  _ screams _ in frustration, and he releases the sheets to pull at his own hair.

The blonde doesn’t commit to anything, just placing his mouth and tongue wherever he wants. George is getting ready to grab him again when he finally moves back to the top of his dick and takes half of it into his mouth.

“ _ Thank you… _ ” George sighs as his whole body shivers. His cock is twitching deliciously in Dream’s mouth and he goes even deeper. Dream hollows his cheeks and goes deeper, feeling the tip of George’s cock brush the back of his throat. He relaxes and breathes through his nose so the member can ease all the way inside. His nose is flush against the soft hairs of George’s stomach, and he swallows. “ _ Dream… _ ”

He pulls off after going up and down a few times, replacing his mouth with his hand and pumping his cock lazily. He looks drunk, an easy grin on his face and eyes lidded heavily as he admires the way George is panting above him.

“I want you to cum in my mouth so bad, I miss how you taste.”

George groans, flexing his neck as his head leans back into the pillows.

“If you think either of us are allowed to finish before you’re inside of me, you’re fucking delusional.”

Dream laughs at that, and he slows his hand to something more languid as he reaches to the nightstand and pulls open the drawer to find the lube. It’s easy enough to find, and soon he has both hands warming the liquid up as George watches him hungrily. Dream raises his eyebrows teasingly, and George scoffs and turns away with a blush.

That doesn’t last long, though, because as soon as he’s looking away Dream brings two lubed up fingers to his hole and strokes the muscle. George’s entire body tenses and relaxes in seconds, and he takes a deep breath as Dream puts both in at once.

“Oh I’m sorry, Georgie.” Dream says tauntingly, easing the fingers in unbearably slowly to keep from hurting him. “I just assumed you’d be loosened up from all the dick you were getting while you were away.”

“ _ Dream. _ ” George groans, feeling his insides pull the fingers in deeper even though it burns. It’s so much so fast, yet too slow at the same time. He needs more,  _ now, _ but if they go any faster he might not be able to walk afterwards.

“You know what I think?”

“Wh-what?”

Dream’s fingers go deeper, and once he’s filled all the way up, he starts pumping them in an even rhythm. George is moaning softly with every thrust, trying to move his hips down to meet the fingers faster. “Maybe I should get you a leash; tie you up with a little tag to remind you who  _ owns  _ you. Make sure everyone can tell that you belong to me.”

It makes George dizzy; the thought of a collar around his neck, tied up the bedpost so he can’t get away while Dream,  _ only _ Dream, fucks the life out of him. He nods eagerly with his eyes shut tight, a string of “ _ please” _ s falling from his lips.

“Whatever you want. You can do whatever you want to me, Dream, I promise. Just  _ please _ give me more.”

That sounds fair enough, so Dream adds a third finger. This time he doesn’t ease it in, just adds it to the way he’s thrusting with a building speed. George cries out when it first goes in, and his hole tightens around the fingers before he forces himself to relax. With his free hand Dream pushes down on the top of George’s stomach, curling his fingers at the same time.

“How’s that, baby? Can you feel me? Can you feel my fingers deep inside of you? You feel so good around me. So tight and warm.”

The pressure and angle is stroking against George’s prostate, making the smaller man’s legs twitch and spasm slightly. He’s pulling at his hair so hard it hurts, but the pain is just enough to keep him from screaming from overstimulation.

“Yes,  _ yes, Dream. _ Please keep going. Please fuck me.”

Dream swallows at how wrecked his voice is, and he takes his hand off of George’s stomach to coat his own dick in lube. He slows his fingers down before pulling them out, and George hikes his legs up so Dream can watch his hole clench greedily around nothing. He swallows again.

It’s hard for him to go slowly, especially with the way George wraps his legs around him again and tries to pull him deeper, but he’s trying to be careful. Apparently the older man doesn’t give a shit, though, because he moans loudly at the stretch. Dream thrusts his hips a little to get the rest of his cock inside, and once he’s in completely he stays still for a moment. George is whimpering beneath him, but all Dream can hear is blood rushing in his ears.

“Jesus, George, you’re so  _ tight. _ ”

“I told you they couldn’t fuck me as good as you could.” The jealousy Dream had stifled earlier comes back full force, and he feels an animalistic  _ need _ building in his stomach. He leans down and holds his face above George so they’re looking right into each other’s eyes. George’s hands release his hair and go searching to lock fingers with his. His cock is still so deep inside the other, and he watches George’s face with rapt attention as he pulls out and slams back in. “Oh,  _ fuck!” _

Dream pins their held hands to either side of George’s head, and uses all of his weight to hold them in place. He pulls out again, slams in  _ again,  _ and keeps going as George’s mouth falls open and his eyes shut in ecstasy. His boy, his partner, just  _ made _ for Dream to love and fuck with all of his heart.

The headboard of his bed is bumping into the wall with sickening thuds, but Dream doesn’t care as he keeps up his brutal pace that lights up both of their bodies from the inside out. If he could live in one moment for the rest of his life, it would be this one. George beneath him is crying and rambling nonsense as Dream pounds into him over and over.

“You take it so well, baby, you were made to take my cock.” Dream mutters as he fucks into him. George just gasps and opens his eyes to look at Dream again. He obviously agrees. “You gonna cum like this? Just from me fucking you?”

George nods and tightens his hole around Dream’s dick, making both of them swear under their breath. It only takes a few more thrusts before Dream is cumming inside of him. He’s a little surprised by how quickly it overtakes him, but he keeps up the pace as he fills George’s ass.

The feeling of hot cum hitting his prostate causes George’s whole body to shudder with his own orgasm. His dick leaking onto his stomach as he cums untouched. It makes his vision white out for a second, and he comes back to the moment when Dream finally slows his thrusts to a stop and pulls out.

It’s quiet as they catch their breath. Dream releases their hands and sits back to silently watch his cum seep out of George’s hole, looking transfixed and overwhelmed. It makes George blush, and he knocks his knee into Dream’s side so he stops looking.

“You’re such a freak.” George says to him, not looking him in the eyes but still smiling. Dream smiles back, blushing deeply at being caught.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dream replies, getting up to grab something to clean them up with. He works quietly, sorting out the mess so he can crawl into bed and hold George to his chest. George is pliant and soft in this moment, and as soon as Dream wraps his arms around him he burrows his face into his neck.

“Thank you for letting me come back.” George whispers, feeling open and vulnerable.

Dream pets his head with one of his hands and presses a soft kiss to his hair. “Thank you for coming home.”

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiii guys. pretty happy with how this turned out! i hope u liked it.
> 
> remember to kudos/comment if u enjoy, it means a lot to me ^__^
> 
> follow me on twitter if ya want, @_selvish


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